


You don't know.

by polarbearyl



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Neither is Undyne, Post-Neutral Route (Undertale), Post-Neutral Route - Empress Undyne Ending, Raised Rating, Sad times, Sans isn't okay, Suicidal Thoughts, Toriel's everyone's mom, it'll be okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polarbearyl/pseuds/polarbearyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know he’d be a wreck after everything. You know he’s still a wreck, since it’s only been three months. You wonder how he manages to do it. Smile, that is. But then again, he was a skeleton.</p><p>-</p><p>You're the Empress now. You have to make sure ALL of your subjects are alright. If they're not then, hey, you can try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're five years younger.

**Author's Note:**

> I killed Papyrus and Asgore and Mettaton and a whole lot more monsters and I left it at that and I'm sorry.

You know he’d be a wreck after everything. You know he’s still a wreck, since it’s only been three months. You wonder how he manages to do it. Smile, that is. But then again, he was a skeleton.

When you walk down that snowy path, approximately thirty inner voices shout at you to both turn around and go back to the Capitol because you have jobs to do but at the same time they shout at you to stop being such a wimp and just get it over with.  
  
It was just a small visit, said the many voices in your head. Check on him; make sure he eats, because you had been receiving reports from concerned neighbors saying that the smiling bag of bones went back to his home in a whirl of flashing blue a month ago and hasn’t gone out since.

You feel kind of bad that you didn’t visit any sooner. You didn’t have much to do a few weeks ago. You could’ve gone then. But you were grasping at unrealistic hopes that he’d get out on his own.

Shameful, isn’t it. 

  
Still, you follow through and go to Snowdin. And when you reach the door, you notice that it’s uninviting. That could only mean one thing: the door was locked. And you’re proven right when you gently lay a hand on the knob, twisting to open the door. It doesn’t budge. You proceed to stare at the wooden structure as if it had robbed you of your friends and family, and it might as well have. That door was the only thing standing between you and your purpose for visiting your best friend’s brother.   
  
Seconds later, you think: forget it; I’ll just fix the knob.    
  
With little effort, you force the knob to twist, breaking all the locks it had and you push the door open. What used to be a living room full of warm colors was nothing more than a dusty room full of shadows and regret. Your gills close in on themselves. You can smell the dust – not  _ that _ dust – lingering in the air and it makes you sick.   
  
He’s really let himself go, huh.

  
Sighing, you reach into your coat’s pocket and pulled out a 500 ml bottle of ketchup, placing it on the table next to the sprinkle-covered rock. It’s his favorite food, said Papyrus, even though it was technically a condiment and wasn’t food at all. Weird.

“Sans?” you call out a moment later, “You home, man?” 

Only silence replies. You look at the two bedrooms upstairs. Was he in his room or something?

Shrugging off the uneasiness crawling down your spine, you take off your coat completely, neatly folding it and setting it on the side of the couch. The coat isn’t damp - it isn’t snowing. Yet. But soon it will be and you have no plans on being stuck in Snowdin due to a snow storm. It’s best to do what you came here for as soon as possible.

With that said, you make your way towards Sans’s bedroom. It was unlikely that he’d be in the kitchen. Papyrus told you once that Sans banned himself from the kitchen after nearly burning it to ash after a failed attempt in baking some quiche. You had commented, “I guess that was a very  _ fiery  _ situation, huh?” And then Papyrus proceeded to screech at you for your awful pun, then commenting you and Sans shouldn’t ever meet.

You think of Papyrus and his goofy smile. 

“Kinda wish you were here to help me with this, buddy.” You really do, because you have no idea how to do this.

But he’s not. It’s just you and, possibly, the skeleton on the other side.

You knock.

On the other side, something stirs. A soft glow of Patience flickers every now and then. One bony hand glows aqua and so does the door’s knob. The hand clenches and the door is forced off its hinges. It clatters uselessly to the floor. 

You stare, eyes wide and hand still in an about-to-knock position. You look at the skeleton lying on the cold floor and suddenly you don’t know what you’re doing in his house. Sans stares back at you, expression blank. He can’t help you with this.

_ NGAH!!! JUST. DO.  _ _ SOMETHING _ _. _

Something came in the form of you frowning and stepping inside Sans’s bedroom despite not being told to enter - but he doesn’t stop you, so you go on. You stop three feet away and then you examine Sans.

There are dried tear tracks underneath his sockets. He isn’t grinning as widely as he used to. He’s not even standing. He’s lying on the floor, a painfully familiar, tattered red scarf wrapped around his neck, looking more like something made to suffocate him rather than to keep him warm. He’s lying on the floor, looking like he’s wasting away, like a creature with nothing more to live for.

You briefly consider joining him.

But instead, you say, “ _ Jeez _ , man, you look awful.” It’s strained though, too much for your likes, but you can’t help it. Sans isn’t Papyrus; you haven’t spent days training with him, you haven’t spent weekends making awful puzzles with him, you haven’t made failed pasta with him - and yes, you know your cooking is awful. 

You were friends, sure. But he isn’t your-

A thud brings you back to reality. You see Sans, back against his bed, clumsily trying to unwrap Papyrus’s scarf from his neck. It’s wound up pretty tightly, you realize, and a sickening thought crosses your mind but you shove it down with the rest of your unholy thoughts. You approach and his movements turn frantic. You grab his hand and he freezes up like a computer with a virus.

A dull ache blossoms in your chest as you feel chipped phalanges where smooth bones should be. Papyrus never had things like these. Your sick thoughts intensify. Again, you don’t say anything about it.

“Dude,  _ chill _ ,” you say, breaking the silence. Sans looks at the frost-covered window then looks at you with a tired expression. You snort, “Not that sort of chill, you idiot.”

  
And suddenly, you’re dragging him downstairs, your hands gripping his tightly but hopefully not enough to hurt. You drag him all the way down to the living room and you literally shove him onto the couch (which makes a jangling noise when he lands). You see the faintest speck of curiosity in darkened sockets and all of a sudden you feel five years younger.


	2. You won't allow it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A skip in time. Time to visit goat-mom. It doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long. I've been travelling, and then I had to make up for my lack of comics, and there was the case of not wanting to disappoint anyone... but here it is! Enjoy and tell me what you think later on, 9th-grader style.

You’re the empress now. You have to make sure  _ all  _ of your subjects are doing alright. If they aren’t doing fine, you should make it your personal mission to make sure they do feel fine in the end. Which sounds impossible to do, now that you think about it, but you have to try.

You promised you would try and you  _ always  _ keep your promises. You rarely ever promise, but when you do, you always do your best to keep them. Always.

So that’s why two weeks after you visited Sans, you’re walking towards the Ruins, the skeleton in tow because there is no way in hell you’re facing the ex-queen alone. She  _ is  _ one of your subjects now, after all, so you gotta check up on her, too. 

But you don’t really want to.

“Tell me why I’m doing this again.” you say once you see the old purple door. Sans chuckles behind you, “because you told me: ‘i’m the empress now. checking up on my people is my job.’ and tori’s not the queen anymore, so regardless of personal feelings…”

You groan, take a deep breath, and sigh, “Of course.”

Sans knocks twice, frowns, then steps back behind you. That makes you curious. After you kicked the ex-queen out, Sans made a show of personally escorting her to the Ruins, all the while making jokes and puns to ease whatever little bitterness she harbored after losing her job. They seemed so close. 

The door opens and your thoughts vanish. There, standing tall and majestic on the other side, was the ex-queen. Toriel.

Her eyes narrow in suspicion at the sight of you. Her eyebrows furrow quizzically and then she asks, “Aren’t you cold?”

You were prepared for her to tell you to leave, but you weren’t prepared for that question. And to answer it: yes, you are cold. You forgot your coat in your old house and the scarf you had was snatched away by the annoying dog. (How something so small proved to be so troublesome is beyond you.)

Anyway, back to Toriel. She’s waiting for your answer. 

Say yes. Say. Yes. So many voices tell you to say yes, but instead, you answer: “Not at all.” Wow, you’re an idiot.

“Okay…” She doesn’t seem to believe you. Oh, good God, she’s perceptive. “We came here to visit you,” you say in an attempt to draw her attention away from you. At the mention of ‘we’, she seemed to become even more curious, if that is possible. So you step aside to show Sans who’s trying his best to sink into his fluffy jacket. He looks at Toriel then at you like you’ve done a large betrayal (and wow you’d be a liar if you said it didn’t hurt). Toriel brightens up considerably though.

“Sans! I was so worried about you!” And there she goes, literally scooping the small skeleton up into her warm embrace. She looks like she’s about to tear up, but you suppose that’s not unusual. You may not have a clue what happened to make Sans leave for so long, but you do know that Toriel was the last person he talked to - you know he basically moved into the Ruins with her - before locking himself in his house. Toriel was probably worried sick.

A nasty voice in your mind whispers,  _**good**. _

She puts Sans down a couple of minutes later and she stands tall again. You notice how much larger Asgore was compared to her. You were a head shorter than Asgore. You’re just half a head shorter than Toriel.

“Why don’t the two of you come in?” Toriel asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. She holds a paw out towards Sans but, to your surprise, Sans backs away and goes to clutch your right hand instead. You feel Toriel’s quizzical look on you again and you feel chipped bone against your scales. 

It fills you with strange resignation and nausea.

“Oh...kay then…” Toriel mumbles and you feel Sans’s hold on your right hand tighten, to which you return the motion by squeezing for just a while. You nod towards Toriel and you enter the Ruins, dragging Sans behind you. She shuts the door once you’re inside.

The sound of a lock clicking in place makes you stop.

“Go on ahead. The entrance to my house isn’t far,” you hear Toriel say behind you. “Sans knows the way.” At that, Sans tugs at the red scarf around his neck and walks ahead of you. But he’s still holding your hand. He kind of looks like a child like this.

“c’mon, ‘dyne.” 

A warm, peach-colored foyer greets you. The house’s warm colors should have put your mind at peace, but the eerily familiar placements of furniture shook you to the core.

Her house looks like Asgore’s home. Too much like Asgore’s home.

“the living room’s this way,” you stumble after Sans, taking note of every nook and cranny that looked painfully familiar. Aside from the lack of golden flowers and a missing chair - there were four chairs in Asgore’s home - everything looked the same.

“Have a seat,” you comply, taking a seat on the chair nearest to the exit. Toriel sits on the large chair and Sans sits on the floor. For a moment, awkward silence was all there was. But you clear your throat, catching their attention, and you begin to speak. “As empress of the underground, it is my duty to ensure my subjects’ well-being.”

“But you have exiled me,” Toriel replies and you fiddle with the scales on your hand. “No, I didn’t,” you reply, “I just threw you off the throne and replaced you. I never banned you from going ‘round the underground.”

“So that makes me below you now, hmm?” 

“Not really, no,” you curse under your breath as you rip the scale off your hand. You ignore the sting. You’ve had worse injuries. “Technically, maybe. But you were still the queen and I’ll always look at you like you still are.”

“i’m gonna go make some tea.” Sans cuts in, standing up and heading to where you presume is the kitchen. 

With Sans out of the scene, you stare at your hand and let out a sigh. 

Let’s get real, shall we? You don’t want to be here. And it's not because you're scared of Toriel. You simply do not like Toriel. A lot. That’s been established since a long time ago.

It’s not that you’re jealous of her or anything. That’s ridiculous - why would you be jealous of her? No. It’s because of the very first policy she established when she attempted to rule the underground in place of Asgore. So many monsters lost their families because of that one human child, Asgore was murdered by that human child, and every soul they collected was stolen by that one child. But then she comes in and goes on to make a rule that protects their kind. Unacceptable.

But before you could further delve into your thoughts, you hear Toriel shift in her seat, making you look at her. She opens her mouth to say something, closes it, then opens it again. “How are you doing?” she asks, “Being empress is not easy, is it?”

No, it’s not. “I can tell. You looked so much more youthful when I first saw you a few months ago.” As much as you’d like to deny that, you know she’s right. There is a frown where a toothy grin should be and dark circles are underneath your eyes (the ones under your left eye are covered thanks to the eye-patch, but it doesn’t change the fact that they’re there). You look old. Older than you were. Too old for a monster who’s in their young adult stage.

“Well, I’m not a boss monster, so I’m not gonna remain youthful forever,” you reply. “But... but yeah. It’s not easy, y’know? Not when practically your leader and all of your hope was ripped away overnight. And then because people don’t like the replacement, they tell you to replace the previous leader instead.”

Toriel looks at you, eyebrow raised, “So you’re telling me you never wanted to replace me as the ruler? People just elected you to replace me?”

Pretty much. You only wanted to get Toriel off the throne because she obviously had no idea what she was doing, but you never wanted to become an empress. You never wanted to see the day where Asgore had to be replaced. 

“Ruling sucks and I don’t wanna do this. But I gotta try.” It’s the least you can do. Toiel shakes her head, “Spoken like a true leader.” 

The two of you run out of things to say. Well, okay, no. She tries to make a conversation, but you respond by either giving sarcastic replies or one-word answers. Which is rude, you know, but you can’t help yourself. After a few more attempts, Toriel stops trying, which ensurs awkward tension and silence.

But after a few minutes, you hear more shifting and again this prompts you to look up. Toriel is staring at you with the same look she wore when you first showed up at her door. Quizzical. Questioning.

“Tell me, warrior. Why are you doing this?” Toriel asks - no. No, it’s not just a question. It’s a demand. She wants you to tell her why you’re there.

“Tell me, or you may as well leave.”

Indeed.  _ Why _ are you doing this? You could say that you’re there just because of your promise... But just as the world is round, you know that’s just not it. It’s not enough to be a reason.

You know the real reason.

“Tell you? Okay, let me tell you. Do you know that guy in there?” you point towards where you saw Sans disappear to, “I promised that guy that I’d go around the underground, making sure people were doing okay. That includes you. Even though  **I hate your guts** , I’m here to honor that promise.”

You breathe. 

“You… hate me? I should have known.” she's pale. 

“You said you hated Asgore! Back then, in New Home, you said it! You called him a miserable creature! How dare you?! Yes, Asgore was miserable! He was miserable for a long time because he lost his kids to the damn creatures you tried protecting, and even though you knew it was their fault your kids died, you still took their side and left him alone! You could have helped him through it all! Made him see reason! But you abandoned him!"

“He could not be reasoned with!” 

“ _ You don’t know that!  _ You don’t know  _ anything  _ about that!” 

And all of a sudden, it’s a yelling war. Toriel stands, staring you down. “And what could you possibly know about my own ex-husband that I do not?”

For. Frick’s. Sake. “Probably not much, but I certainly know you’re no better than him!” 

Good lord, she looks offended.

“I know he’s kind, and sweet, and all he wanted to do was make people happy! He wanted to give everyone hope, which was why he had to kill all of your stupid replacements for your children! And you know what else!? Yes! He could have used one fkn soul and got out and got some more - but would that have painted a positive view to the humans when we got out?! They’d view us as killers and there’d go another war and he didn’t want to fight! He didn’t want to lose anybody anymore!”

And for one moment, Toriel looks at lost. Then a ball of fire forms in her hand and she nearly hits you. You dodge easily and the flame hits the wall behind you. Her eyes are watery as she asks you, “Why do you defend him, warrior?!”

Then you see yourself. You’re much younger and you have both your eyes intact.  You’re standing on a stool because you’re not that tall back then, either, and your hand is covered in a gooey mixture of flour and eggs. You’re incredibly messy and you look awful, but you’re grinning widely as Asgore tells you that he’s proud of you; you didn’t spill that much cake mixture onto the counter. 

You see yourself again. Your hand is outstretched and spears are appearing out of thin air, all of them aimed towards the direction where your palm is facing. The targets up ahead are all hit on the spot. You hear a cheer and you see the younger version of you scooped up into a loving embrace. You see the younger you laugh happily.

Then again, you see yourself, younger and resigned. That younger you is embracing Asgore as he’s sitting by the golden flowers, lacking his royal get-up and wearing a faded sweater and pajamas instead. Younger you is watching the flowers with a look of sadness. You’re well aware of what happened there. The prince and his sibling died on those flowers.

So now you look at Toriel and think,  _ that is the stupidest question ever. _

You don’t say that, though. Instead, you say, “Because he was my family. He was the closest thing to a father that I ever had.” 

You’re mad, and Toriel seems like she’s either horrified, angered, shocked, saddened, or all of the above. You know you should really shut your mouth, but you add, “And if you think I’m just gonna stand here and listen as you insult the memory of my family then you better think again.” 

Just as she won’t stand for you hurting her children, you won’t stand for Toriel insulting Asgore’s memory. Never that.

“I’m sorry, but I will never allow that.” You nod towards Toriel and then you turn away, heading towards the exit to the underground. 

You leave, thinking,  _ man that was not in the plan.  _ Sigh. 

Maybe you won't keep this promise after all.


	3. You get drunk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like y'all to take note of the new tags. And thank you to all those who commented. I'd reply to y'all, but I'm awkward and I don't like one-on-one reply-thread-things. Sorry. But just know I appreciate the comments, really.

 

 “‘dyne! undyne, wait for me!” 

You pause in your tracks, wrapping your arms around yourself. You hear a strange ‘whoosh’, followed by the sound of slippers against snow. Before you even register it, Sans appears. 

How is that even possible?

“that didn’t go as well as planned, huh,” he stuffs his hands in his jacket, and for that you’re strangely grateful. As the two of you stand there, the snow begins to fall, making it less cold yet increasing the chances of being turned into a fish-sicle.

“so… where to now?”

You shrug, “I’ll be honest, dude, I have no idea.” Now that you’re standing in the cold, your head is cooler and you’re slowly feeling the aftermath of your screaming war against the ex-queen. And the aftermath consists of guilt, annoyance, disgust and pride. And you’re guessing that it’s not the good pride.

You look back to the door to the Ruins, then to the skeleton next to you. “Why’d you leave her alone? Not that I want you gone, or anything.” You add upon seeing the white lights in his sockets flicker. 

“let’s talk about this in grillby’s,” Sans replies. You nod and begin walking towards town, when suddenly, Sans speaks up again, “hey, it’s this way.”

“But Snowdin Town is right there,” you point to the East. Sans shrugs, “I know a shortcut.” With that, he holds out his hand to you and you take it. 

Suddenly, you find yourself standing inside Grillby’s, surrounded by drunk monsters and moping dogs. Only a few notice your arrival, and they are surprised to see you, the empress, with Sans in a place like Grillby’s. Which is to say, in a bar/restaurant located in a small town. How the heck did you get there so fast? You look to Sans for an answer, but he just smiles tiredly and says, “fast shortcut, huh?” 

Your jaw is hanging open. “uh, better close that. don’t  _ jaw  _ know that flies exist?” 

Hearing Sans’s comment, Grillby’s flames glow brighter. Sans waves a hand in a hopefully apologetic manner, “it was just a joke, grillby. i know you’d never have flies here.” The skeleton pulls out a barstool for himself and you, “have a seat.”

So you do. A farting noise fills the air and the bar goes silent. People are staring at you and Sans is grinning like he just heard the best joke in history.

“yeaah, you should probably watch where you’re sitting. weirdos put whoopee cushions everywhere.” Sans says, leaning his elbows on the counter. 

“I will freakin’ end you,” you whisper through gritted teeth. 

“heh, go ahead.”

Grillby approaches the two of you with a notepad in hand. You flip through the menu left on the counter and say, “I’ll have some fries.” You hand the menu over to Sans. “Pick what you want. It’s my treat.”

“ketchup,” he replies, almost automatically. You shake your head.

“Okay,  _ no.” _

_ “ _ but you said-”

“I know what I said! I mean anything  _ but ketchup _ .” you say with finality. Sans looks disgruntled. “what have you got against the condiment, anyway?” he asks. 

“What sort of question is that?” You enter what you like to dub as your ‘lesson mode’, “Ketchup doesn’t even raise your HP by whole numbers - at least, the ketchup Grillby serves doesn’t. And don’t give me that look. I know my stuff.”

You come by to Grillby’s every time you get to visit Snowdin after all. You like the fries he serves. 

“my HP doesn’t need to go up by whole numbers though,” Sans argues. “That’s ridiculous,” by now, Grillby had gone off to serve a different customer first, as it seems this argument will last for a while. “How much is your max HP that you don’t need whole numbers?” 

Sans laughs, “1.”

“1? As if I’d believe that,” you scoff. 

“it’s true, though,” he says, smiling as always. “you can even go ahead and ask grillby.” 

And in that moment, Grillby walks back to the two of you. It’s perfect timing, so you ask him, “Hey, is it true that this guy has literally  _ 1 _ HP?” 

The flame elemental looks you over for a moment, before looking at Sans. For a moment, they exchange glances, as if conversing. Then Grillby looks back to you and says, “Yes.”

“...Did he put you up to this?”

“It is the truth, your majesty.” Grillby looks at Sans. “Ketchup?”

“ketchup.”

With that said, Grillby walks away to get your orders. It won’t be long. Fuku Fire helps him out whenever she can, and since it’s summer, she most definitely can. With Grillby gone, you and Sans lapse into semi-uncomfortable silence. In simpler words: uncomfortable silence. You both have your own reasons for saying nothing. Sans has nothing to say, and you…

You’re dumbstruck? You’re shocked? You’re surprised? You don’t know what you’re feeling. 

It’s just. 1 Hope Point. _1_. Hope Point measures the monster’s will to live, and if Sans has 1 HP even when out of battle, then… then…

You don’t want to think about it.

“papyrus knew.” 

You look at Sans. He’s leaning on the counter, white pinpricks of light settled on the countertop. He’s smiling, but it’s exhausted. “papyrus knew about my 1 HP. that’s why he, uh, dragged me into the sentry thing.”

You don’t know what say. Sans, noticing this, keeps talking. 

“paps thought that if i had a job, i’d have more will to live. so it would raise my hope point.” Grillby arrives and he gives you your order of fries and a bottle of ketchup for Sans. Sans thanks him and Grillby goes back to polishing his wine glasses. Once he was gone, Sans continues talking.

“it obviously didn’t work, and papyrus knew that. but he wasn’t discouraged,” you smile despite the situation. It seems nothing ever discouraged Papyrus. “when it became apparent that nagging me to do work wouldn’t raise it, then he took it upon himself to make sure that i was safe. going so far as to set up a barricade near my station.”

“He made the bars too wide, though.”

“yeah, but it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “I guess so.” 

“anyway, what’s it like, being empress?” Sans asks in an attempt to change the topic. 

“It’s like being a mom to a hundred depressed children.”

And you two stayed there for a long while, eating and talking about menial things. You joke about your current life, and he listens and laughs as if it matters. 

At some point, Sans asks you, “hey, wanna get drunk and suffer a hangover?”

“You can get drunk?” you’re halfway through your fries and you’re so disturbed right now. Sans grins, seeing your befuddled face. 

“don’t ya know i’m the best at being drunk?”

You grimace, since you actually do know. Papyrus ranted more than enough times about it. “It’s not something to be proud of, Sans.” 

But you want to. Yeah. You want to drown. “But sure, let’s get some whiskey.”

During your first shot, you thought that this was going to be a night full of bad decisions and pain. Second shot and you’re still thinking about it. Third shot and you may or may not have seen a skeleton who suspiciously looked like Sans but wearing painful neon colors and sunglasses with ‘YOLO’ written on them. Fourth shot and holy sham you’re flying.

“Dude,” you say, giggling, “I had no idea these things could do this!”

“first time?” Yes, it is.

At some point, the two of you order some more. And then a bit more, until the world becomes strangely funny and you’re laughing so much that you’re crying.

“-and I was, like, humiliated! Gerson bought me some-” hic, “-some cinnabuns after that, to cheer me up. Didn’t work, haha. My parents were laughing. So. Much.” You wipe your snot off, “Man I was such a  _ loser _ .”

“heheh, that old turtle’s been in your life since your striped-shirt era, huh?” 

You nod, “Yeah-” hic, “-he was. He was like an uncle to me. Giving gifts when I visit with my ma and pa, messing ‘round with me, telling me stories of the good ol’ days, combing my hair after a bad decision to swim to get across the disproportionately small gap. He still is.” You pour more whiskey into your glass, “But when my parents got dusted by that kid-”

“the purple-soul kid, right?” 

“Yeah. But when that happened, it was Asgore who really took me in. He was already training me by then. Let me stay over in his house some time when I wasn’t up for training.” You smile as a distant, hazy memory replays in your mind, “When I wouldn’t feel like it, he’d make some pie, or make some tea. And he’d let me help just so I’d leave the room and do something. He became sort of like my dad.”

You chug down the contents of your glass. Wow, it’s late and you’re the only ones left in Grillby’s and you feel like soaring. 

“Y’know, sometimes I wish I didn’t have to get up.” You wave your hand around as if it’ll do something, “Sometimes I… like to pretend the world’s better off without…”

Sans lets out a bark of bitter laughter, “god, ‘dyne, i know the feeling.” 

“Oh really?”

“that’s how every day of my life is spent, ha. wishing to be gone, ‘cos the whole underground’s way too heavy to carry on my shoulders… but pap was there, y’know? so i had to just… try, while he was there. for his sake.” he chuckles. “but there were still times where i just… think of just…”

“With 1 HP, I doubt it’d be hard.” You’re drunk as hell, but you still think of the. chipped phalanges that you felt when Sans clutched your hand earlier that day. “That was you, right? You did that, to yourself.”

“heh. yeaah… i screwed up.”

“Why?” 

“whadd’ya mean?”

“Why do that? Why everything?” you flail, “Why 1 HP? Why??” While the two of you try to make sense of everything, Grillby flips the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’, but he surprisingly doesn’t shove you two out.

Finally, after a long period of not-quite-awkward silence, Sans laughs. “time is a circle. a stupid, loopy circle.” 

“What?” You’re not Alphys, but you have a gut feeling that he’s not talking about anime. Or maybe it’s just your liver saying you should stop drinking. 

“everything i do is pointless,” Sans says, “in this world exists something capable of rewinding time. resetting everything-” hic, “-taking every bit of progress away.”

You scrunch up your face, “That sounds like a load of bull, offense intended.” 

Sans pours what little whiskey was left equally into your glasses, “i know, right?? and i wish it was, but goddamn, dyne, it’s not.”

“That’s not true. Can’t be,” you reply stubbornly, hoping to ease your wild thoughts. Sans shakes his head, grimacing (or as close to a grimace he could make) and says, “nah, ‘dyne. nothing i do matters. everything is frickin’ pointless - and this??” he topples over the now empty bottle of whiskey, “once everything resets, this won’t matter. ‘cos you won’t remember, and…”

“Bull.” you repeat. “Absolute. Bs. Prove this to me.”

Sans makes no movement. Of course he doesn’t. As if you’re going to believe that the world you’ve been living in is just… just something like the videogames Alphys used to play. There’s no way he can-

Sans stands up and grabs your hand. 

“Whadd’ya think you’re-” 

“i’m gonna prove it.” 

He?? What?? “you asked for proof, and i’m gonna give it to ya.” Then he adds,  “it’s all gonna be reset anyway, might as well let you see for a while.” 

With that said, he tugs on your hand and again you feel the lines and uneven bones and it’s sickening. You shut your eyes as the world seems to swallow you, and you don’t know why, but when you open them again, you’re standing in front of Sans and Papyrus’s house.

That’s it. You’re too drunk for comprehensible thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how in RPGs EXP usually means Experience Points but EXP in Undertale means Execution Points? Well I know HP usually means Hit Points but since this is Undertale I turned it into Hope Points. I just like the thought of it. Hope Points. The more you wanna live, the higher it is, thus explaining Undyne the Undying's hella high HP.


	4. you're sans for now.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're Sans. For now. 
> 
> Because I have to go back to the Capitol. Those nerds managed to descend the whole kingdom into entropy and I've only been gone for, like, a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever and I am so sorry.

This is the first time you’ve brought her here.

Reset after reset after reset. Every time Papyrus dies, you go ahead and hole yourself in your room, and it’s always been Toriel who picks you up. It was Toriel who would notice how crummy your mood is, how you don’t want to work anymore, how tired you are of everything. Of living. It was always Toriel. 

The kid has a sick preference for killing either Papyrus, Undyne, or Mettaton - which will push Alphys to kill herself, and yes, you know she’s killed herself and will continue to do so if Mettaton is hurt and  _ god don’t give Alphys a reason to die, please _ \- and it’s really wearing you out.

You have lost count of the amount of times Undyne ended ruling the Underground by the time your count hit 23. 

Whenever Undyne becomes queen, Papyrus is never there. Just Toriel. Or no one at all.

When she ended up as queen again, you thought nothing of it. The kid usually resets a week later, anyway. But then a week turned into a month, and a month turned into two months. 

And then Toriel made you some spaghetti and she has never done that before. She was never given the chance to reach this far and you just. Snapped.

You holed yourself up in your room because you are, and always will be, a coward. You don’t do anything. You either hurt inside and ignore everyone who knocks at the door - especially Toriel and Grillby. You just, basically stop your magic from being noticeable, and you could have fallen down because of what you did but did it matter when your life had been deprived of the one you loved most? - or you hurt yourself until you pass out. 

A month passed. Three months.

And then she came by. Undyne, in all her red-haired glory, infiltrated your room.

You were terrified. This is new. Why isn’t the kid resetting? Why are they letting Undyne see him like this? Why?

Undyne looked so harsh, her expression obscured by the shadows. You were prepared for her to berate you. You technically haven’t resigned from your job as a sentry, and in extension, a guard, but can’t she see how it’s so hard-

Then she held you. Gently, as if you would break in any moment. Despite it all, it was painful.

* * *

 

Undyne brought you to the Dreemurr Castle with her. You didn’t give consent to this, but you said nothing either. You don’t know why. You’re too scared, maybe.

She cared for you. Personally. As in, she even cooked meals for you. “Eat up, punk,” she said with a wide grin adorning her face. But it was so out of place. You did eat, and it’s not that good, but oh god it reminded you of Papyrus and how you ate for his sake.

You ate. This time, for her sake.

* * *

 

The first night you spent there, you couldn’t sleep. You could hear sobs coming from the hallway. You could hear a voice crying out. Her voice.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!” And then there was a crash, and she swore. You wondered if she was aware of her sleep talking.

Maybe that’s why she made you reside in the room at the end of the hall. That way, you’re five rooms away.

You still hear her the next night. And the night after that.

* * *

 

“Visit the families, huh? What good will that do?”

“you could build morale. give them hope, or make them feel less lonelier. you did it with me, you can do it for them.”

“...Hmm. Maybe I will.”

“promise you will.” Just for the heck of it. It’s all going to be reset, right? This won’t matter in the end. Might as well.

“You hate promises.”

How did she know? Did Papyrus tell her? 

“but i believe in you.”

Believe. Hah.

“...Oh.” her grin is golden, literally and figuratively. “If so, then okay! I promise.”

You are garbage.

* * *

 

Why did you suggest that you two visit Toriel first? You could feel your SOUL humming with anxiety. Of all the times you could have been a nervous wreck, it had to be today.

W h y ?

And why are you afraid of Toriel? Toriel is nice. Toriel is kind. Toriel is...

You’re shaking the entire time because it’s been so long and you don’t know anything Toriel will do. You haven’t seen this before. 

You let yourself cry in the kitchen for a good five minutes, until every tear you could shed was gone. Then you actually started making the tea.

* * *

 

undyne. ‘d yne, please, don’t. d on’t do it.

_ oh my god. _

* * *

 

Well. That could have gone better.

You take Undyne to Grillby’s. You know she loves it there. Sort of. Well, she likes the fries a lot. She visited whenever she could, back when things were still okay and nothing was wrong.

The two of you eat, and the two of you talk. She tells you about things you really don’t care about, but you listen. She tells you how it’s like to be queen, and you remember that one time where Papyrus became King and everyone was hopeless. 

That is when you finally see how much Undyne has matured. She’s not just the brash, straightforward, stubborn Captain Undyne. She is now also the striving, hard working, slowly crumbling Empress Undyne. 

That is when you see just how much this weighs on her. That is when you realize how the timelines with her as the ruler never got this far.

You don’t want to think of the implications.

You two end up drinking until the pain goes away.

* * *

 

And now you’re here.

Your ‘laboratory’ isn’t in a better state than the rest of your house. It’s dusty, untidy, untouched. You haven’t been in here for three months. 

You have never been in here with Undyne. (Papyrus has been here before, but he never found your readings to be that interesting. He breaks the laws of physics.)

You make her sit down. Anywhere, really, since you never really brought chairs down here. There’s not enough room for those things, so she ends up sitting down on the floor, miraculously looking more sober than she usually does behind locked doors. She’s waiting for your proof. 

_ tell her. it can’t get any worse. _

So. You do.

You tell her about yourself. How you were Comic Sans, sort-of son of W.D. Gaster, the Royal Scientist before Alphys. You tell her how you assisted Gaster in his experiments. You tell her how you and Papyrus once spent a whole day repairing the left wing of the Hotland laboratory after the two of you fiddled with some wires that led to the explosion of some panels and some fried circuits.

You tell her the truth. Everything. It was nothing Papyrus never knew. Papyrus took it all with an open mind and a positive attitude. But he’s good at that. And what’s more, he grew up surrounded by nerds obsessed with physics. This is Undyne. 

You’ll never know about Undyne.

It’s all winded. A long, winded explanation. You launch into speeches about the timelines, about augmentations, theoretical physics and you may or may not have pulled out your thesis somewhere along the way. Undyne doesn’t interrupt. She listens, or at least, you like to think that she’s listening. You like to think that she understands, but it probably goes way over her head.

Lastly, you give her a photograph. It’s a photo of you with everyone. No one is dead. The human is happy. With all of you.

It’s nothing more than a faraway memory now.

Undyne doesn’t say a thing, and that's probably the scariest part of it all.

* * *

 

You wake up in your bedroom with a throbbing headache. You have no idea when you fell asleep, or that you crawled into bed to begin with. But your clothes haven’t been changed so it’s good to know that you must have went into bed by your own accord, rather than other alternatives like being carried to bed. Nah. Impossible. The last person you remember being with is Undyne, and she was as drunk as you.

Okay, you admit, perhaps drinking that much whiskey in one go isn’t such a good idea. Thank goodness you had no kidneys or livers or just internal organs in general to ruin.

You don’t move for a while, contemplating your reasons for getting up in the first place. A useful member of society would of course go ahead and make the most of the day to distract themselves from crippling problems, but useful was something you are not and you never will be.

But just as soon as you decide to go back to sleep, you hear a thud and for a moment, hope blooms into your SOUL and you run downstairs, moving quicker than a person in a hangover should. A thud. You hear that thud after every reset. It’s Papyrus! He’s back!

“Oops, my mistake-”

You halt in front of the entryway to the kitchen. Nope. Whatever hope you had was gone as soon as it appeared. Of course. Of course it wasn’t him.

Toriel greets you with a smile, albeit a very awkward one.

“Good morning, my friend. I do hope you do not mind my presence,” Oh, you do, actually. So much that it was irrational. It  _ is _ irrational. It has only been one and a half hour and yet here you are, wishing she was gone, and you don’t even have a solid basis to want her gone. Other than how she’s now completely unpredictable.

But so is Undyne, and yet you let her hang around for so long. 

Speaking of which, where is she?

“If you are searching for Undyne, she has gone back to the Capitol, but she said that she’ll take the ferry later on and come back as soon as she can.” Toriel speaks up. “She called me earlier. She asked me to come over saying you needed help, and to bring some painkillers.” 

“what time did she call?” you’re still sleepy, so you resign yourself to the couch. Was it just you or does the ceiling look a little less dusty and cobwebby? “how come she even knows your number?”

“Around 3 AM. And she used your phone, saying you left it on the counter. Apparently you only have two contacts listed down.”

“oh.” realization dawned in. Suddenly, you feel very awkward. “uh, tori? what time is it now?”

“It’s one in the afternoon.” the former queen says.

You settle down on the couch as you try to process what just occurred. According to Toriel, Undyne called her over at 3 AM, which was roughly ten hours ago. You don’t remember what time you left Grillby’s. You remember talking for what seemed to be hours…

Why are you wondering whether or not Undyne had rested? You can’t even look out for yourself but you’re doing it for someone else.

“I suggest you get some more rest. Undyne told me that you two went out drinking late at night, or at least, that is what she vaguely remembers,” by now, Toriel has taken in a disapproving tone, “Honestly, that was quite irresponsible. Undyne is younger than you, Sans, and she has actual organs to damage. You shouldn’t have done something such as encourage such reckless drinking."

You can’t find it in you to make a pun out of that.

The room descends into silence after that. You don’t try to make conversation, you don’t try to speak up. It’s rather cruel of you. But Toriel doesn’t say anything either, and it seems she’s content wiping the counter table like that.

Oh jeez, this is your house. You should really stop relying on others to clean up your messes.

But you can’t find it in you to take initiative and actually start making an effort to make things better. After all, what’s the point, right? When everything was just going to be reset, why even try?

Speaking of the resets, you don’t recall how Undyne reacted to them. If she reacted at all, that is. She probably didn’t understand and just stared at you as if you were talking some serious bull. That’s probably why she left early.  _ He is Pap’s brother but he sure is a lunatic, unlike The Great Papyrus _ \- that was probably what went on in her mind.

“Sans?” Toriel snaps you out of your thoughts. She’s turned away from you so you can’t see her expression. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

_ because i’m terrified.  _ “uh, what do you mean, tori?” But you know that you cannot weasel yourself out of this.

“Please do not lie to me, Sans. You haven’t visited me in one month and a half, but when everyone was still alive-” your breath hitches; she doesn’t seem to notice, “-you would come by every day. You didn’t even send a text to let me know you were okay. You left, without saying anything, without even telling me what I did wrong- do you have any idea how worried I was?”

Toriel continues to talk, everything pouring down, and she has never talked this much before. You are secretive, and she holds things inside, trying to be strong. You two are similar in that aspect, and to see her pour every feeling out is shocking.

“I went to this house, I’ve knocked many times- did you not hear me?” you did and you ignored it all. 

“And then yesterday, you show up, after a month and a half and you were with Undyne. I was so happy. You were alive! You were okay! I thought for sure that… I don’t know, maybe she punched some sense into you? I thought things were better, but you didn’t make puns, you didn’t even say any knock-knock jokes, and you just stood there when she…” she falters. 

“This is very selfish of me, Sans, and I am sorry… but you’re the only friend I have left and I do not want to lose you, too.” Toriel hides her face with her paws. Then, in a soft, shuddering voice which is the tell-tale signs of crying, she says:

“I cannot bear to lose more people.”

Toriel weeps. She breaks down, her strong, calm, regal exterior washed away by tears and pain. For the first time, you see her, completely emotional and saddened, grieving,  _ tired _ . You’ve never seen Toriel like this before. And you feel awful. This is all your fault.

You made her worry about you. You were selfish. You didn’t think your disappearance would affect anyone. Perhaps you always will be selfish. You don’t know.

You really, really don’t.

You approach Toriel and you hug her. You don’t know what to feel, what to think, what to say. You’re not sure what to do, but a hug is as good as any. 

“i’m sorry, tori,” you mumble, “i’m so sorry. i was hurting you… i seem to do that with everyone, heh...” you hug her even tighter, and yikes, she’s huge. Bigger than you in every aspect. You can’t even wrap those arms around her completely. 

“i’m sorry, tor. i… i didn’t know. i didn’t know what to do anymore, so i ran, and i still don’t know what to do…”

You don’t know what will happen anymore. No other timeline had progressed this far. You haven’t seen this. You don’t know when a reset will happen. You don’t even know if a reset will happen. But…

“but i… i’ll try not to run anymore.”

You stay like that for who-knows-how-long, and at some point you fall asleep, but when you wake up again, you wake up to the sound of Undyne crushing tomatoes as if they were her enemies. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write grieving Toriel at all. But just one last chapter to go and I can finally be done with this.


End file.
